


Full Moon

by Dutch



Category: Original Work
Genre: But hes completely aware of whats going on, Furry, Is this incest or isn’t it I’m not sure, Knotting, M/M, Minor breeding talk, Minor cum inflation, Not enough to qualify as dubcon, Teratophilia, Were-Creatures, full shift sex, slight altered state of mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dutch/pseuds/Dutch
Summary: Read the tags.





	Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

In retrospect, getting your bro to mount you was a lot simpler than you’d thought. Your bro is a werewolf. Actually more like a were-Golden retriever, and when the moon is full he turns. It’s a slow process, it even begins during the day, and at dusk he locks himself in his bedroom. He’s almost fully conscious then, and he was only a little less conscious when you suggested he fuck you.

See, the thing about dogs is they’re basically eager to please, even if they’re not entirely all dog. Your bro was just dog enough for it to sound like a good idea and just human enough for him to verbally consent. You asked to wait an hour more though. Until the sun was all the way down and he was almost entirely furry.

In retrospect, what is not simpler than you thought is the act of getting your pants down. You’re 23 years old and since you’ve begun wearing pants it’s been pretty simple to take them off. Even as a kid your brother had to put a belt on you backwards to keep you from shucking them off in public.

But now your bro has basically got you pinned to the bed and he refuses to stop fucking dry humping you. His hands are all dog now, his opposable thumb tucked right up close to the others and rendered unusable. There is only one way this is gonna happen and that’s if you do it yourself.

“Bro,” you manage to huff out, “down, down boy.”

But your fairly sure he can’t hear you. Not over all the whining he’s doing. He sounds like he’s dying, and it’s killing you both he can’t hit the mark he keeps aiming for. He humps forward again and his unsheathed dick rubs right against your clothed hard on. The friction squeezes all the air out of your lungs and you’re left gasping.

“Bro,” you choke.

“Down. Get down,” you repeat and this time you’re demanding it. Loud.

His hips stutter to a halt and he blinks down at you, confused for just a moment.

“Down,” you say again and this time he listens. He pulls completely off of you and litterally gets down. Off the bed, on to the floor and his ears droop like he’s being punished. Like he just ripped up the sofa or something.

“Why?” He asks, and his vocal cords don’t really mesh with his new mouth. It comes out low pitched and garbled. His tongue moves but not the way a human’s would. It sort of makes something in your gut churn to see his expression, but it’s not like you kicked him.

“Cause,” you counter, sitting up. “Pants is why.”

He perks up like he had a great realization. “Help?”

He’s so exaggerated and excitable like this. On any other night he’d be the one in charge.

“I’ve got it,” you assure him.

You know in the mornings when his head is splitting and his knees are aching from basically reversing themselves that he hates not being able to verbalize. His transformation still lingers with a too long tongue and too long teeth and a brain that’s still functioning like a hound. Right now he doesn’t seem to mind only being able to speak one word.

Your pants and boxers come off in one go and your shirt is next. Your cock sits up flat on your stomach but you don’t touch it as much as you want to.

One glance down at him and he almost vibrates with excitement. His cock bobs between his legs. The beginnings of a knot are started at the base of him, and precum follows the veins down to it. His mouth is open and he’s salivating, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. His Amber eyes are glued to your crotch and he looks like he wants to eat you alive.

“Fuckin call me grandma,” you mutter, and lean back laughing on to the bed. You divest yourself of your sunglasses, your last remaining piece of clothing, and pat your lap like he’d a pekingese and not a creature capable of mauling you to death.

The motherfucker basically leaps up on to the bed and without missing a second beat his tongue is covering your face and neck. He’s happy, and even though you can feel his cock slot itself up with yours, you don’t move your hands to fist them. Instead your hands go to the mane of fur around his neck and tangle them there, feeling the heat of him and course texture of his coat and the air movement that his tail wagging is kicking up.

Your hand moves to push his muzzle away once your neck is throughly sloppy. The weight of him is heavy and familiar. Familiar only in the same way nostalgia is. You’ve never touched his wolf before. In fact you’ve only seen it once, a fleeting look at his back as he dashed in to the woods. 

You use your leverage on his muzzle to kiss him back, on the tip of his nose and he practically melts. His head shoves in to the pillow besides yours like he’s bashful and the shift in his posture manages to slide his dick up yours.

The motion makes you shiver. As much as you’d like to lie here and pet him all night long, your hard on is a little distracting. You suppose his probably is too.

“I did prep before I came in,” you say quietly. “What do you say we get this show on the road?”

“Please,” he replies. “Hands. Knees.”

You feel your flush spread to the tips of your ears as you realize he wants to do you doggie. He gives you some room to turn over but not much. Once you’re up on your knees one of his hands move from where their resting beside your head and move to line himself up. He’s still got dexterous fingers, just no thumb, so it isn’t too hard.

The tip of his cock is tapered, and he’s basically covered in precum so the extra tube of lube near by isn’t needed. He slips in pretty easy, you’ve taken him many times before so it’s not like you hadn’t prepared for a stretch. When you roll your hips back there is no hesitation.

The first time you fucked you had expected him to take a dominating, aggressive control and command you to your knees. It wasn’t like that at all. He liked it slow, and soft, and easy. He likes to pull back just far enough for the head to pop outside your rim and push gently back inside. Slow and shallow.

But just because that’s how he likes it doesn’t mean that’s how you like it.

“You gonna fuck me like you mean it?” You ask. “Make me cum. Come on, give it to me deeper.”

“Fuck,” you curse as he complies, and instead of taking half strokes he’s pushing in to the hilt. That’s better, but not exactly perfect. You think you have an idea how to fix that.

“What a good boy. What a good fucking boy,” you praise. “That’s it, fuck. Just like that. God, your cock is fucking perfect.”

Your dirty talk is no exaggeration. His cock is great, like really great anyway but something about the new shape of it lights up nerves you forgot you had. His knot begins to catch but it’s still small, and for now it’s just stretching you out as he jackhammers in and out. You hadn’t expected it to start swelling so fast.

“Fuck,” you groan. “Fuck, I’m such a fucking slut for your cock. Fuck, breed me harder.”

That makes him whine. For the first time you’re aware he’s drooling all over you, his mouth wide open and panting. His chest is heaving against your back and his thrusts are getting more urgent as his cock grows. It’s getting a little painful, but you don’t say anything.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop until you breed this bitch full,” you tell him instead. Your cock bobs between your legs and you don’t move to touch it. Mostly because you wouldnt be able to hold yourself up other wise, and because you’re pretty sure you’re gonna cum untouched.

His hips hitch and then he bucks foreword, and then he freezes up, tensing as his knot swells the rest of the way and locks him inside. He shifts back, testing, and your ass follows him. You cum when he does, painting the bed under you as he paints your insides.

You feel pretty full, and after the first two minutes your feeling bloated. Your thighs are quaking and your elbows are pretty sore too. Then, like he knows or something he eases you back and sort of rolls you back over. This time he’s on his back and your back is to his chest. From this angle, you can see how wolf his legs look, but his feet oddly enough are still pretty human. So are his arms when he wraps them around you.

Sweat drips down off of you but it doesn’t penetrate his fur.

“Again?” He asks and his entire chest vibrates.

It takes you a few minutes to respond, too busy trying to catch your breath and stay comfortable.

“Yeah. Again. Just gimme a sec.”


End file.
